Two hours and forty three minutes seems like a long time for a movie – especially when Jana Gana Mana began, all rickety rackety and without a clue of where it was going. It also seemed to take a very questionable point of view and by the time the movie broke for interval, I had very little hope for it. But, despite a few tiring punch lines and helpless preaching, Prithviraj and co do drive home a point, and the film, which appeared to have all the time in the world, suddenly seems rushed with too much to say in too little time. Rather like many of us slackers, who remember in the last minute that there was somewhere to go and it was getting late.
With the 2019 film Driving License, Suraj Venjaramoodu and Prithviraj Sukumaran had proven that they made a formidable pair, in talks and deeds. In Jana Gana Mana, they don’t have a lot of exchanges, instead they take turns. Suraj first, Prithviraj later. It is interesting to see, in twist after twist, who has the last word in the end.
Suraj looks prim, proper and mature in the clothes of a police officer, an assistant commissioner in charge of investigating the alleged rape and murder of a woman professor – Mamta Mohandas. Mamta, as beautiful Sabha, is pleasantly the hero of a bunch of research students at a central university – a role that usually goes to men. Sabha is often at the centre of a group of students, being their guide and philosopher, and the first to protest injustice.
Watch: Trailer of the film
It is all chaos and very familiar settings – students protesting, raising slogans for justice for their murdered teacher, police beating them up, media reports of it all. The script – written by Sharis Mohammed and directed by Dijo Jose Antony – tries to incorporate parallels of a lot of real life crises, but it’s all rather inadequate. Mass scenes in campus – clearly written to raise spirits – look amateur. The point is however conveyed – right wing elements, puppets of older senior leaders, seeping into the picture and creating trouble.
Suraj walks into this scene with the airs of a righteous policeman, several times reiterating that the force is there to implement the law. He is fast – seeing the students, seeing the bereaved family (Shari as the mother in a prominent role after a long time, and Sabha’s sister), picking the clues, nabbing the suspects. Accommodating all the action, the script feels a little cryptic, switching between scenes, dialogues not holding your interest. Only Suraj’s marked performance – more a man of action than words and keeping an impassive face through most of it – holds your interest in the first half of the film. By the end of it, the film appears to take a questionable stand that it refutes considerably well in the latter half.
Prithviraj, first seen shortly in a court at the beginning of the film, appears again in the latter half. One of his legs is injured and he needs a stick to walk. He takes his time to stand up and talk, but has a tremendous screen presence afterward. As Arvind Swaminathan, he brings up several cases – drawn lavishly from real life – to make a very important point. Here the script – with a pack of punch lines helped by powerful music of Jakes Bejoy – conveys with emotion what was wrong in the majority stand taken by people, and which appeared to be endorsed earlier in the movie. By removing all doubt of where the movie stands, the script more than covers up for the earlier shortcomings.
However, the last many minutes, as we said earlier, are too packed – too many backstories, cut and edited and put together to just about finish the puzzle, it’d seem. With better making and time management – meaning less time and spreading the script evenly – the film would have scored more.
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the series/film. TNM Editorial is independent of any business relationship the organisation may have with producers or any other members of its cast or crew.